


(you should never know) how easy you are to need

by akosmia



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pining, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:09:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21770797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akosmia/pseuds/akosmia
Summary: His words echo in her mind as she looks at him and she doesn't know what to say to that - how to convey the surprise, the shock, the hint of warmth and even the fear in her chest that she can't seem to shake off. The fact that he'd bothered to memorize her so much in the span of a few months comes almost as an electric sensation underneath her skin, a pull that compels her to inch closer to him and run from him at the same time, a feeling that calls to her but that frightens her to death.It's such a dangerous thing, being known and it feels always like this when it comes to Ben - like a flight-or-fight response that kicks in everytime he lets her know he has seen her as no one has ever seen her before.-- or: Rey realizes Ben knows her better than anyone else in the world, and it terrifies her to death.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 46
Kudos: 412





	(you should never know) how easy you are to need

**Author's Note:**

> so....i'm not dead? i'm almost afraid of posting this thing because i've been missing from the fandom for like, half a year, but writing was starting to get difficult and stress-inducing and i was going through a lot, and i'm not exactly sure i've got better, but this thing has been in my docs for too long so here's that, if i had to look at it, then you had too :D i originally had started writing it after the last trailer came out, from which the idea of "being known" came from, but it took me literally two months to manage to write it and be ....kinda happy about it?  
> so, sorry for disappearing like that :/ i make no promises because i'm still going through a lot, but i'll try to write again sometimes!! if you want, you can drop me prompts on twitter or on tumblr and i'll do my best!! i'll try not to disappear again at least :D

The sun is slowly setting, painting the world in a dusty golden light, by the time Ben finds her on the rooftop. 

She's sitting quietly, hugging her legs, her knees pressed to her chest, her gaze fixed on the horizon even if the dying light is somehow way too bright for her eyes. Winter is upon them and the air is starting to get almost biting, so she burrows in the hoodie she has borrowed - or, more accurately, stolen - from Ben before climbing up there. From where she sits, she can see the trees that line the street bathed in the light of the sunset, the reflection on the few golden leaves still standing making this quiet neighborhood almost a winter wonderland. She wonders if they'll have snow this year. 

"There you are," Ben says, waking her from her reverie. She can see his head poking from the window below, his black hair standing out as a spot of darkness against the incredible brightness of this moment. There's something tugging the corner of his lip upward, and Rey immediately recognizes the smile she's learned he reserves for her only. 

It makes her chest painfully tight, for reasons that she doesn't want to investigate. 

A sigh escapes her lips as she hugs her legs even closer, almost as if she could protect herself this way. Not that she'd need to, not when it comes to Ben - but old habits die hard, don't they? It's weirdly hard to let go of something you've clung to your whole life, she's realized lately, and after all, better safe than sorry. No matter how wonderful and entrancing is to see Ben smile like this - she can't get rid of her conditioned response of just shutting everyone else out, because who would she be without it?

She's not sure she wants to know the answer. 

"How did you know I was here?" she asks, in the end, her eyes lingering on his frame, bathed in the light. 

In response, just because he's _Ben_ , he starts to climb on the rooftop with the ease of someone who's never been up there, as far as she's aware, and is currently holding a mug of what looks like tea in his left hand. Despite it all, she has to admit she's impressed by his balance, even if he looks a little bit pale by the time he manages to reach her and does his best to avoid looking down. 

Ben sits down next to her, apparently oblivious to the remarkable task he's just performed, and flashes her another one of his brief, warm smiles that make heart stutters in her chest at the sight. 

"It's where you come when you're upset, " he says, simply, as if he had just stated the obvious. 

What surprises her the most is not the fact that he's found her - in the months she's lived here, she's probably climbed on the rooftop more times than she could count, and he must have noticed this weird habit of hers somehow. After all, you can't _not_ notice if your absurd roommate decides to risk her life daily and climb on the rooftop at any given occasion just because she'd be like that sometimes. No, what surprises her the most is the fact he knows _why_ she has climbed up there. 

Her eyebrows furrow out of their own accord as she turns into his direction to better look at him, as if the answers were written on the moles of his face. "Which prompts the question," she says, puzzled. "How did you know I was upset?" 

He smiles again, and the dimples she has learned to anticipate appear on his cheeks, leaving her so enthralled that for a moment she forgets everything else. 

Then, he bites his bottom lip as his eyes turn to the mug he's still holding in his hands. Steam rises from it, but if his palms are burning, he doesn't show. "Well," he starts, shrugging. "You haven't eaten anything since you came home from work, and that isn't like you, so…" 

He trails off, looking embarrassed by his own admission, and his cheeks turn a faint shade of pink when her gaze lingers on him for a little longer. Even his ears, peeking through his soft-looking curls, are turning red. He's still staring at the mug of tea in his hands as if it could grant him all the answers in the world, but Rey barely notices, because she's too busy being stunned. 

His words echo in her mind as she looks at him and she doesn't know what to say to that - how to convey the surprise, the shock, the hint of warmth and even the fear in her chest that she can't seem to shake off. The fact that he'd bothered to memorize her so much in the span of a few months comes almost as an electric sensation underneath her skin, a pull that compels her to inch closer to him and run from him at the same time, a feeling that calls to her but that frightens her to death. 

It's such a dangerous thing, being known and it feels always like this when it comes to Ben - like a flight-or-fight response that kicks in everytime he lets her know he has _seen_ _her_ as no one has ever seen her before. 

In the end, it's Ben who speaks first, interrupting this weird, poignant silence between them. He still look flustered, but he hands her the mug of tea he was carrying and glances her way, the faint smile back on his lips as if it had never left. 

"For you. It's apricot tea with honey, just as you like it." He must have read the question right off her frown, because he lets out a brief chuckle that sounds surprisingly like _home_ , which is both shockingly accurate and incredibly absurd, because she's never had a home - just apartments she lived in. "You don't need to look so surprised. We've been roommates for, like, half a year. Obviously I've picked up some of your habits". 

There's a lot of things she could tell him right now - that nobody has ever bothered with her to the point of memorizing her habits and know her tastes in tea, that right now it's the first time she feels truly vulnerable since she was a kid, exposed almost as if he had pried her ribcage open to take a look at her heart, that a part of her likes it despite the fact that it terrifies her to death -, but she ends up picking the mug he's handing her and smiling at him, hesitantly, as if she had seen him for the first time.

In some ways, she has. She had never realized just how much attention Ben paid to her until now, and she's both awed and frightened by it, a dangerous sensation that feels too pleasant for her likes. 

"Thank you," she murmurs, as she takes a sip of her tea. It's still hot, and it warms her up as much as Ben's hoodie, a feeling of _rightness_ that spreads in her whole body. He's looking at her with rapt attention, but she can feel a nervous energy about him, despite how much he tries to play it off, and she knows, as if she had learned him in some previous existence, that he's waiting for her verdict. She smiles, quietly. "It's perfect. You're the best roommate in the whole world". 

Ben lets out another chuckle and shakes his head, as if dismissing her claim, but she can feel the silent happiness hanging around him. They stay like that, in a blessed silence that makes her weirdly comfortable, watching the sun set slowly but surely, its light filtered by the trees. The lingering feeling of _home_ \- so elusive, so new to her, so foreign in her life that it takes her a moment to decode it - comes again, gripping her heart so tightly she has trouble breathing. She can't tell if it's pleasant or not. 

"What happened?" he asks, in the end, bringing his gaze on her again. His eyes search her face almost avidly, as if he could divine her worries on the lines of her face, and it scares her how much he can read her already, but it also wakes some kind of long-forgotten _yearning_ in her chest, almost as if he had tugged at her heart, pulling it to him. 

Rey takes her another sip of her tea, before answering. "It's my birthday," she confesses, after a few seconds. 

"Oh." He looks like he's debating if wishing her a happy birthday or not, but the look she gives him must be enough of a warning, because he doesn't say anything. Instead, he presses his lips together the way he does when he's nervous and looks down at his hands, as if studying his moles. "Did your friends forget about it? Because I'm ready to punch Poe for it, just say the word". 

A laugh escapes her lips despite it all, and she asks herself when exactly she has let Ben so deep underneath her skin that he knows how to make her laugh now. It's never been this way with her other roommates, so there must be something about him - something in the weird softness he radiates around her, that mix of kindness and fierce intensity that it's so peculiar about him and has left her fascinated since the very first time they'd seen each other. 

"Don't act like you aren't down to punch Poe at any given occasion. I've heard him talk about your childhood, you know," she retorts, smirking into his direction, and he laughs too, not even bothering to look apologetic about it. It's the warmth in his gaze and the ease of it all that make her open up, despite how terrified she is right now. "No, they were very nice. Finn and Poe baked a cake and brought it to the office… it was very sweet". 

He bumps their shoulders together, gently, as if to spur her on. "But?" 

Her fingers grip the mug way too tightly as she shakes her head. "Nevermind. It's stupid," she says and only after the words have left her mouth she realizes how shaky her voice sounds. 

Ben must notice too - of course he does, some part of her brain thinks, he seems to have memorized her by heart -, because he leans in and carefully places a hand on her arm, his fingers feather-light on the fabric of his hoodie, for which he hasn't even asked an explanation. The gentle pressure of his hand makes her turn in his direction, breath hitching on her lips. 

Her heart feels like a wild creature, pounding in her chest. 

"Hey, it's not stupid," he murmurs, softly. He inches closer, his big puppy-like eyes fixed on her face with an intensity that seems almost to burn every defence within her. "Whatever it is, it's not stupid". 

He says it as if he believes it and the softness of his voice, the tenderness of it all wakes the yearning monster in her chest, and before she knows she's telling him everything, trusting him the way she has never trusted anyone else. 

"I just don't like my birthday," she admits, facing away from him and staring at the lines of trees in front of them. "I spent it alone for most of my life because no one cared enough about me to celebrate it, I guess, so… I just don't like this day. It reminds me how alone I am". 

She doesn't manage to look him in the eyes as she confesses this - it feels too scary, to let someone else know what she's thinking, to be so vulnerable in someone else's presence. She's spent her whole life building a suite of armour around her heart and she can't stand the idea of baring herself of it, but Ben has a way of sneaking into her life with his steadfast presence and his hesitant smiles, their late night talks and the grin he reserves her when she makes him laugh, and despite how terrifying it is, she's glad she told him. She's glad he's here, on this rooftop, with her. A part of her is even glad he knows her so well, even if it scares her more than anything else she's ever faced. 

His fingers dig into the fabric of the hoodie, and she can feel his warm, soft gaze on her along with the intensity she has learned to associate with him in these few months. "You're not alone anymore, you know that, right?" he murmurs, so gently, as if afraid of startling her. "You've got friends. You've got Finn, Poe and Rose. You've got all your coworkers. Hell, you've even got _me_ ". 

It never occurred to her she could have _anyone_ , let alone Ben Solo, her wonderful, adorable roommate that seems to have taken his time to _know_ her as no one has ever known her before and has managed to sneak his way into her life without her noticing. It feels weirdly significant, as they stand on this rooftop, the last rays of sun lingering on them, painting Ben's face in shadows and golden light. 

This is the moment she will never recover from, she thinks, the point of no return she'll always think about. 

She nods. "Thank you," she breathes, after a moment, trying to pour into these words everything she's feeling right now. "It's just…sometimes, despite it all, I still feel like the kid my parents tossed out when I was five years old". 

"Then I'll remind you how loved you are," he replies without missing a beat, even if his voice is slightly shaky, as if he was a few seconds away from crying, too. When she turns into his direction, he's blushing, the red so easy to see on his pale complexion and his lips are trembling, just like his hands. "I mean, Poe can be an idiot sometimes, I know it all to well." He lets out a nervous huff of breath that could almost pass for a laughter, but his eyes stay terribly soft and serious, fixed on her. "But I'm sure he cares about you. And so does everyone else". 

Her lips curve in a smile, despite it all, as she watches him fumble with his hands, as if he had just discovered them and was unsure about what to do with the knowledge. She can still hear his words in her mind - _then I'll remind you how loved you are_ -, and she asks herself why it's so easy to believe him when he tells her that. It's never been this easy - before she moved in, love came with unease and mistrust, a dangerous thing that she was starved for but still avoided as if her life depended on it, something that sent her heart racing with an equal mix of longing and terror. And still, it all feels so easy with Ben. 

Why does he make it so easy? 

"I know," she whispers, in the end, trying to abate that terrible longing she feels into her chest right now, that one comes awake when Ben looks at her like that, with his big eyes and that tender smile on his face that makes something in her soul flicker. "I know they care about me and I feel so bad, I mean, I'm not taking them for granted and I love them. It's just- sometimes I just feel so alone and they don't seem to get it and-" 

His hand travels down her arm to grasp her own, briefly but gently, before pulling away - but his touch leaves a lingering sensation beneath her skin, and she feels like she's just touched a live wire, her fingertips burning from it. It feels both like a lifetime and barely a second have passed, and she can't understand the way her heart is frantically beating in her chest, clawing its way out of her throat, stealing her breath away in the process. 

"Rey, it's alright," he says, his voice so soft, almost as if he were whispering a secret into her ear. "It's hard to let go of the wounds our childhood left us, I get it". 

She presses her lips together before talking, lest he notices she's two seconds away from crying. It's a pointless struggle - he probably knows it already by the trembling of her shoulders or the heaviness of her breath, but it matters to her and he's kind enough to pretend not to notice. He stays in silence, his gaze fixed on the horizon, and gives her time and space and she is so _grateful_ for it, and for him, that it almost feels like a physical sensation, this kind of relief. 

"That was…." she says, in the end, staring at her own hands. "Surprisingly well put". 

The laugh he lets out is enough to chase away all other thoughts from her mind for a moment. There's nothing in the world quite as bright as Ben's laugh - a sound she has learned to recognize by heart, a sound that has occupied a special place in her life before she could even notice. Now she counts all the times Ben laughs and feels weirdly proud of herself whenever she's the one to elicit even a chuckle. 

_He's never laughed as much, not even when we were kids_ , Poe had told her, a few weeks ago after they'd gone for drinks together. _He's… different when you're around._ _He must really like you, Rey._

"I can't take credit for that, it was what my therapist said last time," he tells her, bumping their shoulders together again, and she can't help but laugh too. It feels such an easy thing when he's around, as if he always knew what to say, which string to pull, which smile to gift her and how to coax a similar smile from her. "But seriously," he adds, a little more somber now. His hand hovers in the air for a few seconds, before he decides to rest it upon his own knee, looking flustered. "I meant what I said before. I know it can be hard not to… feel alone, if you've lived like that your whole life, I suppose. I understand. I've been alone for most of my life, too, and I've never-" He shakes his head, taking a deep breath. "Anyway. I'll always be there to tell you that you're not alone. Not anymore". 

He blushes so easily, she thinks. He's so pale, and any hint of color shows so quickly on his face, but the thing is - he looks even _softer_ like this and her heart twists painfully in her chest at the sight. It takes her by surprise, the knowledge that Ben is beautiful. 

Despite her better judgment, she leans in and rests her head upon his shoulder. It feels like the only right thing to do at this point and her heart hammers in her chest as she does. Her gesture elicits a sharp intake of breath from Ben, but before she can start doubting herself and move away, he presses a kiss to her forehead and wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in with outstanding ease, as if they had done this before, as if their bodies already knew each other in some other life. 

It's so warm and peaceful here in his embrace - his breath ghosts against her temple and she can hear the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat in the silence that surrounds them. They watch the sun dip below the horizon as the darkness approaches, the red tendrils of its light giving way to the deep blue of the night. 

"Hear me out," he says, after a while, his lips so close to her skin it feels almost taunting. She wishes he pressed another kiss on her forehead. Her heart twists in her chest, the yearning monster within her tempting her to do something she knows she'd regret. "What if we come back inside, I make the pasta you like so much and we start a Harry Potter marathon?" 

She districates from his embrace just enough to stare at him in confusion. "But you hate Harry Potter," she reminds him, as if he could somehow forget. 

A faint blush colors his pale cheeks again, and up close like this she can notice how it makes the moles on his face stand out even more. "Well, you like it and it's _your_ birthday," he says, nervously running a hand through his hair, as if keeping himself occupied. "It's a sacrifice I'll gladly make for you". 

She laughs, shaking her head. A warmth that has nothing to do with the hoodie or the arm currently resting on her shoulders starts to spread from her chest, but she tries to keep it in check before it becomes too much, before it becomes too big, before it starts to devour everything else in her life and she's left with just this aching, terrible _want_. 

"Alright, then" she says, before pulling away from him. She misses the feeling of his body against hers as a physical sensation, but she prevents herself from doing something stupid like lingering for too long. "Let's go". 

"Great," he replies, watching her raise to her feet and looking back at his feet, a somewhat uncertain expression on his face. "Because I'm terrified of heights and I'm starting to feel a little bit restless". 

She stops right in her tracks. " _What_?" The shock must be easy to read into her voice because he blushes even more, his face red as she's never seen him before, and looks like he wishes he were anywhere else but here. "Then why the hell did you even come up here?" 

Ben looks at her as if she had just uttered something very stupid. "Because you were here," he replies, simply.

It does nothing to stop the yearning monster in her chest. 

*

The thing is - when Poe told her she could stop her hopeless search for a new apartment because his old childhood friend was just looking for a roommate, she never expected it to end up like this. 

All her previous roommates were wonderful people, surely, but all their interactions had limited themselves to a polite greeting in the morning or a brief conversation about rent. Sometimes, if she asked, they'd heat up her instant ramen for her while she showered after coming back from work, but that was about it. She doesn't even remember if they'd ever spoken for more than five minutes consecutively. 

Ben - well, he's another matter entirely. Poe had told her that his old friend was a "bit of a grumpy, irritable mess" and warned her about it, but it had taken her just a week after moving in to realize he was the kindest person on earth, and the best roommate she could have asked for. Two weeks in, and she had felt as if she had always belonged there with him. 

Which, in hindsight, should have been a warning. 

He's different from every roommate she's ever had. He lends her books she know she'd like, helps her braid her hair before she goes to the gym so "it won't get in the way", asks her how she's doing and stays around to hear the answer. She has catalogued all the smiles he reserves for her only, the little kindness he does for her when he thinks she isn't looking, the warmth in his eyes everytime she drags herself in the kitchen in the morning and he's there to greet her with a cup of coffee ready for her. They have a joint Netflix account and fight daily over what to watch over dinner and spend most of their nights talking at the kitchen table with a cup of tea in their hands, despite how much he claims to dislike _hot leaf water,_ as he puts it. Somehow he has memorized her schedule and does this thing in which he pretends to cook just for himself, only to have always a plate of leftovers (which always looks remarkably full) for her because he knows she won't outwardly accept his help because she's too proud and she likes to insist she can take care of herself. He doesn't even say anything about all the times she steals his hoodies or his flannel shirts, but stammers on his words every time he catches her wearing his clothes. 

It wasn't supposed to go like this - but by the time she realizes Ben might have carved a hole into her heart with his smiles and his presence and his disarming warmth, she's halfway in love with him already. 

*

Her only thought when she leaves her desk after a long way of work is for her bed - warm, soft and inviting. She can almost taste the sweetness of it - a night spent doing absolutely nothing, marathoning Brooklyn Nine-Nine _again_ (despite Ben telling her it can't possibly still make her laugh after she's seen the same episodes over and over again) and eating cookies straight from the jar she keeps in the kitchen right for these occasions. It almost feels like a dream at this point. 

The thought alone is enough to sustain her during the long commute home - or at least it would be, because by the time she finally leaves the building she stops dead in her tracks. The first thing she notices once her eyes adjust to the darkness of the night is the old, battered Falcon parked right in front of her and then Ben leaning against its side with effortless grace, looking like he was just taken out of a movie. 

His black hair falls a little bit on his face, his long curls - he had talked about cutting it a few weeks ago and she had advised against it just because _it doesn't look half as bad after all,_ when in reality the only thing she could think about was how she died to sink her hand into that mass of curls - brushing against his cheeks and jaw as he looks down at his phone. He's wearing a long, black coat that looks terribly warm over a white shirt and black jeans - just his usual work attire. There's nothing special about it - she has seen him dressed like this multiple times in the months she's lived with him, but there's something about the scene in front of her right now that makes a switch click in her brain and for a moment she can see him the way anyone else would. Long legs, wide shoulders, that kind of disarming charm about him that seems to draw her in despite all her best efforts - it all comes both as a surprise and a familiar sensation to her, and she finds herself staring at him, his long frame bathed in the streetlight, the Christmas lights for the nearby shops giving him a faint halo as they shine softly on his hair. 

She is so taken aback by his presence here, outside her workplace, that she stays right where she is and only when Ben puts away his phone and notices her, flashing her the boyish grin she knows by heart by now, she manages to walk again into his direction, frowning in confusion. 

"What are you doing here?" she asks him, as soon she's in front of him. 

"Nice to see you too." Ben seems confused too. "Here. " He hands her a cup of coffee she hadn't realized he was holding before. Her fingers curve around it before her mind catches up with the reality of it, and her hand brushes against his for a fraction of a second that sends shivers down her spine. She pretends not to notice. 

She looks down at the cup she's now holding, then looks back at him. "I asked for an answer, not for coffee," she reminds him, then takes a sip of the beverage. It's hot and sugary, just as she likes it, and she can't help but admit that it feels good. "Thank you, though. It's perfect. How did you manage to get my order so well?" 

He looks even more confused, a wrinkle in the middle of his eyebrows that only appears when he's puzzled by something. "I know you," he says, simply, as if that was a valid explanation. A faint blush spreads on his face, but he blushes so easily she barely realizes it. 

"Oh." She takes another sip of her coffee, then clears her throat. "What are you doing here, anyway? Surely you didn't drive all the way to my office just to bring me coffee".

At her words, Ben's confused expression fades away, replaced by the smirk she knows so well. "Who says I haven't?" he asks her, teasingly, then he shrugs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "You texted me you were having a bad day at work," he adds, then, a little bit more seriously, as his eyes linger on her for a moment and she feels a kind of warmth that has nothing to do with the coffee she is drinking and all to do with the fondness in his gaze. 

She blinks a few times. "Yeah, because I wanted to vent, not because I was asking you to drive all the way here to pick me up and bring me coffee". 

He shrugs again - the usual way of his when he wants to tell her it's not that big of a deal. She knows him by now, or at least she thinks she does, and she can read him pretty easily when it comes to his mannerism - but what lies beyond it, that's truly a mystery. She can't fathom the idea of Ben driving all the way from his office, which is, incidentally, on the other side of the town, just to wait for her outside her workplace with a cup of coffee in his hands. That's not something that normally happens in her life. 

But Ben has turned her whole existence upside down with his mere presence and she's coming to the realization that she doesn't know how she'll eventually fill the void he'll leave into her life when she'll have to let him go. She wonders what price she'll have to pay for the privilege of having someone to care for her for the first time in her life. 

Maybe a broken heart. 

"Anyway, I'm not here to pick you up," he adds, a smile on the corner of his lips that she _dies_ to kiss. The dimples on his cheeks make him look younger, and she has to admit he somehow _shines_ when he's around her, an ease in his body that seems to be there only when he talks to her. "Get in the car, we have something to do."

"Yeah, that doesn't sound ominous at all," she deadpans, eliciting a laugh from him, but then she climbs in the car all the same, still sipping on her coffee. 

The Falcon is old and battered and it surely has seen better days, but as soon as she sits on the passenger seat, she feels instantly at home, as if this car were a natural extension of their shared apartment. It feels a lot like Ben - warm and welcoming, easy in a way that she has never felt before in her life. She keeps on asking herself why the hell everything is so easy when it comes to Ben, but she can't seem to find an answer. Not one she wants to hear, anyway. 

He climbs in the car too, and before she realizes they're driving away. The day has faded into the night long before she even left her office, but the streets are full of fairy lights and Christmas decorations and it feels like they're lightning them the way. She can't help but smile at the sight - it feels such a childish thing, being excited for Christmas, but she can't remember the last time she got to be a child and she can't blame herself for the way her heart leaps at all the decorations and carols and at the promise of snow. It feels like a gift she's been given. 

"So," Ben starts, his hands on the wheel, his eyes fixed on the road, but a hint of smile on his lips. "What happened? You sounded upset earlier". 

It takes her almost a minute to remember she was in a bad mood - all she can think about is Ben, his presence, the smiles he keeps gifting her, the fact that he came to pick her up just because she was grumpily ranting about her day via text. "Oh," she lets out, then shrugs. "The usual, I guess. There was this mess at the office and me and Finn had to take care of it and it took us hours but…" she trails off, her eyes darting a glance in his direction. "It doesn't matter. I already feel better".

The grin that slowly spreads on his face is bright and beautiful and she wants to look at him for the rest of her life, his elegant profile against the Christmas lights in the background. Her two favorite things in the world. 

"And you haven't seen your surprise yet," he tells her, with a smirk, and she can't help but smile too. It feels like she has stepped into a different reality - a reality in which Ben picks her up from work just because she was in a bad mood earlier, brings her the coffee she likes so much and tells her there's a surprise waiting for her. For a moment, she lets herself imagine this kind of life, and she feels something within her chest, the yearning monster in her heart roaring again at the thought. 

She tries not to think about the things she can't have, but it gets harder everyday. 

"Thank you," she says, in the end. Ben darts a glance in her direction, his brows furrowed in confusion at the seriousness of her tone, and he looks so adorable she wants to kiss that frown right off his face. She wonders how it might feel, to plant a kiss right on his forehead. She hopes she's not blushing. "For… everything, I mean. You didn't have to do this". 

His eyebrows shoot higher. "I'm not doing this because I _have_ to." His words are sure, easy - he says it as if it were obvious, which is the most incredible part of all of it to Rey. He looks at her for barely a second, before turning to face the road again, but his eyes are so full of fondness she can't seem able to breathe under his gaze. "I'm doing this because I _want_ to". 

She can't make sense of it - it comes as a shock to her, the fact that someone could care so much about her to plan a way to cheer her up just because she was grumpy about a minor inconvenience. The way Ben talks about it - as if he hadn't done anything special - makes her wonder how much of life she's missed, and she aches to have this, with him, forever. 

She knows she can't have it - and still, her love-starved heart can seem to know how to stop longing for it. 

"And, anyway," he adds, his tone a little bit lighter, the smirk back on his face. "You're impossible to deal with when you're in a bad mood, so, really, I'm doing this for myself".

She can't help but laugh. Despite his words, it's very hard to believe him, especially when he looks at her like that. It feels just like wearing his shirts feels - warm, safe, _home_. All the things she never thought she could have. All the things she'll have to let go, eventually. 

They drive past their apartment until Ben parks the Falcon right in front of the supermarket where they usually go when they feel particularly fancy - or, better, when Ben feels particularly fancy and she tags along just for the thrill of sharing something with him. 

Rey frowns. "Is this the surprise?" she asks, turning to look at Ben, who's turning down the car and freeing himself of the safety belt. "Are we out of pasta? Someone found your secret stash of tomato sauce and stole all of it?" 

Ben chuckles lightly, showing off the dimples she loves so much. "First of all, don't disrespect my tomato sauce ever again. You love it, I know you do," he replies, pointing a finger into her direction, the usual smile on his lips. His eyes crinkle pleasantly and he's _teasing_ _her_ and it feels so _domestic_ she can almost trick herself to believe this could be the rest of her life. 

She shrugs, because of course he's right and she loves his tomato sauce. "Point taken". 

He flashes her a smug grin that makes her heart twist in her chest. "See? Told you. And, anyway, we're here to buy everything we need to make gingerbread cookies. And then, we can go shopping for Christmas decorations. Christmas is in barely three weeks and I noticed our apartment is severely lacking in that department," he adds, and even if his tone is light and teasing, his smile turns softer somehow. He tilts his head to the side as he takes a long look at her, and the next few words are a whisper, almost a caress to her heart. "I know you love Christmas". 

She opens her mouth to talk, but no words come out of it. She closes it, trying to make sense of everything that's happening. Then, she opens it again. "But you _hate_ Christmas". 

He reacts with a scoff. "I don't _hate_ Christmas". 

"Poe told me you once threatened a bunch of carolers," she reminds him, eliciting a groan from him. 

"That was _one_ time!" She can't help but laugh at his pained expression and her fingers itch to brush away the curls that are currently falling on his face. "And, okay, maybe I don't like Christmas that much. My parents were never around during the holidays and it felt pointless to celebrate when it was just me, you know? Well, me and Poe, but he was just as insufferable as he is now, even as a kid, so. Anyway," he adds, blushing furiously and looking away from her. "Aside from my family drama, you do love Christmas and I wanted to cheer you up, so…" He trails off, shrugging, but his face has turned the pleasant shade of red she knows so well. 

Her mind seems incapable to process this - she can't believe Ben would do this for her just because she has sent him one or two (or five, or six) grumpy texts. No one has ever given a damn about her to memorize her favorite holidays and then Ben waltzed into her life and had ruined her for everyone else and now she can't imagine a life without him in it. 

"You put up with a lot of stuff for my sake," she observes, then, hoping he hasn't noticed how shaky her voice sounds. 

Ben blushes even more, his cheeks radiating heat in the confined space of the car. "Well," he starts, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. "You pretend to like those stupid documentaries about sea turtles I insist on watching, so we're even". 

He gives her a bashful look and despite her best efforts, she can't stop the feeling of _belonging_ lodging into her heart, as if finally all the puzzle pieces had been put together. She realizes now she won't ever be able to stop loving him, not when he looks at her like that - like his only purpose in life was to make her happy. The warmth and the softness on his face make her shiver. She can't bear it - it feels like her heart is twisting into her chest and it feels both painful and wonderful and she asks herself how can anyone stand it, when it feels like this. 

She clears her throat. "Thank you," she says, and she knows it sounds way more significant than it should be.

Ben must notice too, because he gives her a lopsided look, but the smile never leaves his face. He leans in, squeezing her hand for a moment, his skin pressed against hers, her heartbeat so easy to feel under his fingertips that she knows he must notice how her heart is picking up right now. "Don't even mention it". 

Her heart doesn't stop thundering for a very long time. 

*

For the sake of her poor heart, it doesn't get better. 

That night, he helps her decorate the house despite looking like someone had just sentenced him to death. It feels oddly familiar and domestic, to put on the lights and the decorations with him by her side, and her heart does a weird dance inside her ribcage every time she meets his gentle gaze, as if he had suddenly pressed something to her chest. She can't help but beam at him and feel at home and she knows - she knows this is only temporary and she'll eventually lose this, and him, too, and she can't let herself get to attached or make herself vulnerable or give him the power to break her heart, but there's a strange softness about him that seem to resound within her, and she can't help but lean into him. He catches her as she loses her balance and his hands on her hips are warm and gentle and reassuring and she's never felt like this - like home could be a real place, and not just a word in the English language. 

He even lets her pick the movie and doesn't protest when she puts on the new Vanessa Hudgens Christmas Romcom, but sits with her on their (can she consider it _theirs_?) couch, watching the movie with some sort of amused exasperation. She stuffs her face with the cookies they have made - well, that Ben has made while she helped him as much as she could without blowing up the kitchen in the process - and he looks at her with such a fondness in the back of his eyes that she can't stop wondering if, even for a minute, he feels the way she feels. 

It's probably wishful thinking, but it feels nice to lean in a little bit and pretend to be sleepy just to rest her head upon his shoulder. He doesn't move away but puts his arm around her shoulders with terrible ease, as if this was already a practiced dance between them. At some point during the night, she feels his fingers play with her hair and if she shivers in his embrace, he's kind enough not to point it out. 

A few days after that night, she gets sick for the first time since she was a kid, and Ben has to force her to bed to prevent her from going to work, because he knows her too well and knows she would go to her office despite the fever. Despite all her protests, he calls in sick at his office just to help her and make sure she's alright, and maybe it's her fevered brain or maybe it's the vulnerability that comes with being sick, but she lets him take care of her as she's never let anyone before, and she snuggles right next to him when he helps her in her bed. Ben doesn't protest and maybe she's imagining it, but she can feel him press a light, gentle kiss on her burning forehead. 

She spends most of the day sleeping, but when she wakes up, she finds out he has made her soup. The thought is so foreign to her it takes her a moment to accept it - she had never had anyone to make her soup when she was sick, and she doesn't know how to react and her heart feels like somehow it has got too big for her ribcage. She looks away from him, afraid he could see the tears welling in her eyes, but Ben doesn't mention it - instead, he presses another kiss on her forehead and stays with her for the whole time. 

It could be worse, she muses. She could love someone terrible, someone awful - instead Ben is gentle and considerate and makes her coffee in the morning when she's running late and leaves a plate for her in the kitchen counter when she's had a long day of work. But to see him everyday, to catch a glimpse of his smile or one of his fond looks, is getting ever more painful every week. She can't seem to be able to _stop_ loving him - it feels as natural as breathing, as inescapable as the tides, and she wonders when exactly she has let Ben Solo step so easily through her defences, as if he were filling a vacancy in her heart she didn't know it existed until he appeared into her life. 

It would be easier somehow if he had a girlfriend or a boyfriend or if he was just _seeing someone_ \- she thinks she'd get over it, eventually, after many tubes of ice creams and a few weeks of wallowing in self-pity. But he seems content to spend his Fridays just sitting on their couch, eating pizza with her and fighting for who gets to pick the movie, and the possibility - the haunting ghost of it - pokes at her heart day by day, until the day she thinks she will finally snap. 

*

There are Christmas carols in the background when Ben picks up the phone, which makes her wonder for a minute what the hell he's doing in the apartment and if he's currently being tackled by carolers in a sort of karmic revenge for his lack of Christmas spirit. 

"Hey!" His voice is cheerful on the other side of the phone, as if reading her name on his screen had made his night better somehow. She tries very hard not to cry at that, but her emotions feel so fucked up right now that she might end up crying because Ben is happy to talk to her. "Everything alright? Not that I'm not happy to hear from you, I mean, you are definitely my favorite person and I cherish every interaction and all that, but aren't you supposed to be on a date? Is he that much of a dickhead?" 

She lets out a shaky laugh, then sniffles. "Yeah, you could say that". 

This time, when the tears come, is even more difficult to fight them back, and she knows Ben knows, because his next words are laced with concern, the cheerfulness immediately fading from his voice. 

"Rey? Where are you?" he asks, urgently. "Are you hurt? I'll come right now, just tell me you're safe-" 

"No, it's okay, I'm okay, I'm not hurt," she reassures him, quickly. She doesn't want to make him worry and she hates this - she hates the fact that he's the first person she thought of calling, and that his voice is the only thing that can soothe her right now, that she trusts him to the point of being vulnerable with him and she can't help the way her heart aches in her chest upon hearing the concern in his voice. She never thought that someone worrying for her could feel so _warm_ and _reassuring_ , or maybe it's just the effect Ben has on her. "He just… dumped me. I mean, we hadn't even started dating so I don't know if _dumped_ is the right word, but you get it". 

There's a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the phone, and she can almost imagine him - his serious expression, his brows knitted together, the wrinkle in the middle of his forehead that only appears when he's deep in thought. She wishes she had never left home in the first place. She should have stayed there, with him - just another Friday night, eating pizza and watching a movie and stealing his clothes while he pretended not to notice. 

Instead, she had dressed up and had decided to go on a _date_ , and now here she is, on the verge of tears in a bar, with the water she ordered just to avoid getting kicked out. 

" _What_? What happened?" he asks, then. 

She wipes the tear that has fallen from her eye with the back of her hand. "I have no idea. I was waiting for him at the bar and he showed up, looked at me for like, a few seconds, said that this wasn't going to work out and then he _left_." She feels her voice begin to tremble again and before she knows she's sobbing on the phone. "And I don't know what I did wrong, I mean, I didn't even get to say my _name_. I don't even care about him, I don't know why I'm like this right now I swear and I just- I want to come home, but it's late and there's no bus and it has started to rain on top of it and I'm wearing these fucking heels and I might just fucking slip to my death and-" 

"Rey, hey. Slow down. Breathe." His voice is deep and calm and soothing, and she manages to stop her rambling for a few seconds just to listen to him and do as he says. It feels like wearing his shirts feels - as if she was wrapped in an embrace, safe and sound and _loved,_ and she _dies_ to be in his arms right now. She doesn't know what feeling _protected_ means, but she imagines it would feel just like Ben's embrace. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. He's an asshole, alright? He doesn't even deserve to look at you. Are you still at the bar?"

She nods, before realizing that Ben can't see her right now. "Yeah". 

He lets out a deep breath. "Good. Text me your location," he replies, immediately. She can hear a few noises on the other side of the phone, as if he was rummaging through his possessions in search for something. "Stay there, okay? I'm coming to get you". 

She shakes her head and she feels the tears threaten to spill from her eyes again, an unknown force squeezing her heart and making it hard to breathe. "You don't have to. I don't want to ruin your-" 

Ben gently shushes her. "Don't even think of finishing that sentence," he tells her, softly. She wants to cry again, maybe into his arms, burying her head into his chest and letting him wrap his arms around her and rewrite this whole night. "Just text me your location, alright? I'll be there in a moment". 

Her voice trembles still when she speaks again. "Thank you". 

There's a soft sigh on the other side of the phone and she imagines the fond look in the back of his eyes, the warmth that she's so used to and that he seems to reserve only for her. "Stay there, okay? I'm coming to get you".

She texts him her location and then, feeling restless and on the verge of tears, waits for him on the bar's doorstep, wrapping her arms around herself and furiously rubbing them as if to feel a spark of warmth. It's still raining and the blouse and coat she's wearing are way too thin for this kind of weather. She knew, obviously - but she wanted to feel good for once and, she'll admit it, she wanted Ben to look at her, even if just for a second, and _see_ her. 

Now she feels so stupid she might cry again. She curses herself for being such an idiot, for going on this date that wasn't obviously going to work because she's too in love with someone else, and dressing up just because she wanted to forget the very person that's coming to pick her up right now. She wonders why the hell she called Ben - she could have called anyone else, really, and instead her mind drifted back to him and the safety of his presence. It doesn't come as a surprise, really - it's more like a thought coming into consciousness, as if she'd always knew somehow, but she realizes now just how safe she feels with him, how much she trusts him when she's never trusted anyone in her life. 

It feels so stupid to give so much power to someone else. It will end up breaking her heart, she knows it, but she can't help it - he feels like the home she has never had. 

Ben doesn't let her wait for too long. Before she can freeze to death, the old Falcon is pulling over right in front of her, and she makes a run for it despite her heels, climbing in the car before she gets drenched in the rain. The inside of the Falcon is pleasantly warm as she steps in and she lets out a sigh, as if she wasn't aware of how cold she was until she felt warm again. 

"I'm sorry for the wait, I rushed here as soon as I could but the traffic is terrible this time of the year," Ben says, his voice so soft and familiar in the confined space of his car, echoing in a way that makes her painfully aware of him standing so close to her. "Fucking Christmas," he adds with a sort of smile in his voice, his eyes lingering on her, as if waiting for a reaction from her. 

She can hear and even _feel_ , like a living thing, the undercurrent of worry in his tone and in his gaze and her heart twists again in her chest in a way that feels too painful - she's not sure she can face him right now, not when she can feel his eyes on her, not when he's being so gentle and considerate and _soft_ and she just wants to cry into his arms and apologize for it. 

She clears her throat, her eyes fixed on her hands. "You didn't have to do this," she murmurs, so quietly, as if she was afraid of letting him hear her. 

There's a soft sigh - a noise that seems almost deafening in the silence of the car, interrupted only by the falling rain - and then he places his hand upon hers, intertwining their fingers. His hand is so much bigger than hers, but he's so _delicate_ about this, brushing his thumb against her skin with the same tenderness he'd reserve for something fragile and important. Something sacred. 

"Rey," he exhales, her name almost a sigh too. "Will you ever believe me when I say I don't do things because I _have to_ , when it comes to you?" 

It feels so big, so _definitive,_ and so utterly devastating - no one has ever made taking care of her look like something they _wanted_ to do. She's felt like an inconvenience her whole life, an unwanted package left on someone else's doorstep and then Ben came into her life and now he _wants_ to take care of her and her love-starved mind can't process it, because she can't imagine a universe in which this can happen. Her heart is thundering against her ribcage, as if this fluttering creature that only comes awake when he's around died to bury itself into his own chest. He must hear it too - the frantic heartbeat echoing in the silence of the Falcon. She feels on the verge of tears again, and his thumb comes to brush against the back of her hand, drawing small, reassuring circles on her skin. 

"Hey," he adds, so softly. She can feel him lean in a little bit, the heat from his body so welcome to her frozen bones. "It's alright, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said it like that, I didn't want to upset you. I'm so sorry. Can you look at me? Please?" 

She can't help but do as he asks and meets his eyes. He's looking at her, so close she can almost count the moles on his face, and his gaze feels like a living thing, burning through her in such a gentle way that she doesn't feel scared at all. It feels like he's reading her, but he already knows her so well that there's nothing to hide anymore. He knows every part of her, every fear and every wish, every bit of her soul - even if she has no idea of how it's happened, only that he does, and he doesn't find her wanting or imperfect. Instead, he seems to accept her, flaws and all. 

The streetlights cast odd shadows on his face, and she notices he's wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, his usual Friday night attire, and his hair is a little bit disheveled, as if he had run his hands through it multiple times.

She feels a lump in her throat and she can't even explain why. "I'm sorry I ruined your night-" 

"You didn't ruin anything," he reassures her, immediately, squeezing her hand so tenderly. "Honestly, Rey… I was home alone and I was so bored without you I was actually watching a Christmas movie, can you believe?" She manages a little smile that doesn't reach her eyes, but Ben squeezes her hand, gently, again. "But even if you did, it doesn't matter. Your safety is the most important thing to me, okay?"

It feels like he's waiting for an answer, so she nods - even though her brain still seems to have trouble grasping the concept of someone caring enough for her to deem it worthy to waste a night like this. 

As soon as she nods, his lips curve in a small, tentative smile. His deep brown eyes shine even in the faint light of the streetlights and she's not exactly surprised by the fondness she reads in his gaze, but it makes her heart twist all the same. 

His hand lingers on hers, thumb gently brushing against her knuckles. "What happened?" he asks her, then. The undertone of worry is back in his voice, even if it's obvious he's trying to keep his tone light, as if not to scare her away. 

The rain is still falling down and the dull, rhythmic sound of the drops against the car is the only thing she can hear, beside Ben's breath. She shrugs, staring down at their joined hands. Even his hands are pale, and she can see the bluish trace of his veins. 

"I don't know. Rose told me there was this guy at work and she said it would be fun to go out with someone again since it has been so long, but he barely even _looked_ at me, like I was something hideous. He said this wasn't going to work and he just _left_ ," she says, flatly. The tears are gone by now, currently at bay, and she can't believe she felt insulted by this - but she can't help it. It tugs, irremediably, at some strings of her heart she had thought long severed and buried in her childhood. "And I have no idea of what I did wrong. I hadn't even managed to _introduce myself_. I know I'm not much and basically insignifica-" 

"Don't even say it". 

For the first time since she moved in their shared apartment, his voice is not soft or gentle as he talks to her, but there's almost a burning quality to it, an intensity that seems to carry itself like electricity. His gaze is just as burning, when she raises her eyes to look at him. She notices a muscle working on his jaw, his face deadly serious. 

She offers him a self-deprecating smile. "We both know it's true". 

He looks ever more tense. "No," he whispers, and in a simple word he manages to put a world of meaning she can't even start to explore. "No. Rey, you're amazing. You're not hideous or insignificant. You're-" He seems to be out of words, because he trails off, shaking his head and closing his eyes for a moment, as if it had suddenly become too much for him. "Anyone would be lucky to meet you, let alone _date_ you". 

The tears she had thought gone come back to her eyes, and she tries to blink them away, shaking her head and staring back at her hands. "Then why? What did I do wrong?" she asks, even if she knows he can't give her an answer, even if she knows it's not about the date anymore and Ben can't fix her, no matter how gentle he is. "There must be something wrong with me if I can't make anyone stay, not my parents, not some random guy, not even…" _Not even you_. She trails off, wiping the tears with the back of her hand. "Am I that unlovable?" 

At this, Ben seems to be too stunned to speak. When she tentatively raises her eyes, he's looking at her with parted lips and wide eyes and somehow it looks like he's the one with a broken heart and hopelessly in love with the roommate that will never love him back, always chasing down a love that seems to escape his grasp. He's not even breathing - it feels like time has stopped for a moment and there's just the two of them bathed in the light of the streetlights and Christmas decorations, surrounded by rain and shadows and a vast, terrible silence. 

But it lasts barely a second - he immediately squeezes her hand and looks at her with the same raw intensity she had glimpsed before, as if something was burning him from the inside. "Rey, you're not unlovable," he murmurs. He's so _close_ and he looks so _serious_ \- as if he was telling her something vital, a secret he could only whisper in the sacred space of his car, with his hand clasped around hers. "You're beautiful and smart and funny and- God. How can you even think that? Fuck, I wish I could make you see yourself the way I see you. You're incredible, Rey". 

There's such an adoration in the back of his eyes that she finds herself taken aback. His words hang in the car for a while, as raindrops keep falling on the windscreen of the Falcon. It's such a quiet moment - the noises of the city are drowned by the solemn silence of the car and the streetlights cast a soft glow on their faces, making this instant already a memory. 

She'll think about it for the rest of her life. 

Her conditioned response is to shake her head. "I'm not-" 

"You are," he replies, quick as always, as if attuned to her very soul. His eyes never leave her face and he moves their joined hands, bringing her knuckles to his mouth. He presses a light, worshipful kiss right to her hand, but his eyes never leave her face, staring at her with something that she can't decode, but that makes her heart flutter. "Please, believe me. You are".

It feels like a moment suspended in time. His lips linger on her skin, his eyes on her face, and she feels like something is tugging at her heart, inevitably dragging her into him, like two opposite magnets who can't resist their pull. 

Then, as slowly as he has brought her hand to his lips, he lets her go with infinite tenderness. "Let's go home, alright?" he murmurs, gently. 

She nods, her heart still thundering in her chest, longing for the touch of his hand again. Her heart aches and it feels like it doesn't belong to her anymore - but maybe it hasn't in a long time, and she has just noticed it now. 

"Yeah," she manages to say, when her voice doesn't feel as shaky. "I'd really like that".

The rain is still falling down hard on the street and Rey instinctively wraps her arms around her middle, as if to protect herself from the icy cold of it, even if the Falcon is still warm. 

"Here," Ben says, and when she turns into his direction, he's taking off his black hoodie and handing it to her. He's wearing a thin t-shirt underneath it and even if she's grateful it does nothing to hide his arms and chest (and she has to make a conscious effort to avoid looking at him for far too long), he must be already freezing in this kind of weather, but when she opens her mouth to protest, red as she is, he raises his eyebrows and a small smile comes to rest on his lips. "Look, you look amazing tonight but you're already soaked and I don't want you to get sick again". 

Her fingers close around the fabric of the hoodie out of their own accord, while she flashes him a smirk, trying her best not to linger on his words for too long. "Was taking care of me that traumatic?" 

He lets out an aggravated sigh. "No, Rey, it wasn't. It never is," he says, so earnestly it takes her breath away, instantly wiping the smirk from her face. His eyes are so full of genuine fondness and all of this - the hoodie in her hands, the look he's giving her, the way he talks to her - speaks of an intimacy she never thought she could have. "I just don't want you to get sick". 

After this, she doesn't protest anymore and puts on the hoodie. It smells like him and it's soft and warm and it feels like wearing his clothes always feels - like coming home after a long day of work, like the sun filtering through the curtains of her room, bathing her in a dusty light. 

They drive in silence to their apartment. She rests her head against the window, staring at the streetlights passing by and thinking about Ben's lips on her skin, the way he has looked at her, that kind of raw energy about him, the fact that she's wearing his hoodie, the fact that he makes taking care of her look like something he _wants_ to do, a rare and precious gift he's been given and that he'll treasure for the rest of his life. Something in her chest longs for him again, a pitiful creature that comes alive every time Ben touches her, and she can't ignore the tingling sensation in her fingers, already accustomed to Ben's ones. 

By the time they reach their apartment, they are drenched. The hoodie she's wearing clings to her skin and Ben's hair is plastered on his face, wet strands sticking to his cheeks and forehead. She can't help but giggle at the sight, even though she knows he must probably be freezing in this kind of weather. 

_He did it for you_ , a part of her reminds her, _he got drenched and probably froze half to death for you_. 

She tries not to linger on it too much. 

"You look like a soaked puppy," she announces and he pretends to pout, but she can see the genuine relief in the lines of his face when he notices she's laughing again. Before she loses her resolve, she stretches out her hand to brush the strands away from his forehead and cups his face for a moment and Ben closes his eyes, basking in her touch with a trust that makes her heart _sing_. 

Then, he exhales, his lips trembling as he does, and she's reminded again that he has just faced a storm in a t-shirt just to come to pick her up because she was sad. 

Her hand lingers on his face and she strokes his cheekbone with her thumb. "You must be freezing right now". 

Ben, being Ben and thus a stubborn fool, just shakes his head. "I'm okay. You're drenched, though," he points out, as if he wasn't dripping all over their carpet. "Let's get you changed." 

He seems to realize how his words might sound, because he quickly blushes, his skin burning underneath her fingers. "I mean, I-I'll go changing, you should do that too before you get sick again". 

And he disappears into his room without a word, leaving her there, with a smile on her lips and her hands still hovering in the air. 

She follows his advice, though. She strips of her wet clothes and puts on something comfortable and towels off her hair as best as she can, her mind lingering on the way Ben has looked at her in the car, his intensity, the press of his lips against her skin. 

She finds him hovering outside. He blushes so quickly when she finds him outside her door - the surety from their conversation in the car somehow forgotten, he's bashful again and she's so enthralled by this duality. 

"I wasn't spying on you," he says, bringing a hand to the back of his neck, nervously rubbing his skin. She notices he has changed clothes too, but his hair is still slightly damp, curving against his forehead in tight curls she'd die to sink her hands into. "I just… wanted to make sure you're okay," he adds, his eyes darting into her direction, a hint of worry in his voice. 

The thought alone warms her more than any hoodie could, and she feels the yearning monster in her chest come awake again. "I'm okay," she reassures him, with a small smile on her lips. Ben smiles too, the dimples on his cheeks making her heart twist in her ribcage. "Thank you for rescuing me. I'm sorry for… well, all of that. I don't know why it hit me so hard, I didn't even care about that guy. It was stupid but- Thank you for everything". 

He scoffs, shrugging in the usual way he does when he wants to say it's not that big of a deal - but to her, it is. No matter what happens, she'll never forget the kindness he's gifted her expecting nothing in return. 

"Do you-" he starts, his face still a pleasant shade of red. "Do you want to watch a movie together? It's still early after all. We can watch that awful Christmas movie I had started earlier and I promise I won't even make fun of it. Just don't get used to it". 

A part of her _dies_ to say yes. That's exactly what she wants, after that disastrous experience - just to sit on the couch with Ben, trading jokes back and forth, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her frame, his hand lazily playing with her hair without him even being aware of it. An excuse for the closeness she longs for.

But she knows she needs to be alone right now and indulging herself in this - whatever this is - will only make it more painful when she'll eventually have to let him go. "No, thank you," she replies, shaking her head. He looks disappointed for a second, and she curses herself and those stupid puppy eyes that seem to destroy her resolve. She takes a deep breath, looking away and pointing at her room. "I think I'll just lie down. Try to sleep. Forget about this whole night". 

He nods. It's clear that he's masking his disappointment, but he doesn't try to change her mind, considerate as always. Instead, he awkwardly pats her shoulder, pressing his lips together. His fingers rest for a moment even when he's stopped patting her. "Alright. Goodnight then. And-I'm here if you need anything, alright?"

She nods, gifting him a smile. Ben blushes again and watches her walk away from him, toward her door. His gaze burns through her back and it feels like he's reading her again, and then-

"Rey, wait." Ben steps in, gently grabbing her arm and bringing her back, so close to his body that she can feel his heat enveloping her. When he breathes, she feels his chest moving against hers. Her lips are parted and she wants to say something but she doesn't know what to say, when Ben looks at her like that, with the same intensity from earlier, but also some kind of adoration, and he's so close she can feel his erratic heartbeat pressed against hers. "I want you to know I meant what I said in the car. I wasn't just saying it to make you feel better… I truly meant it. You're amazing. You're wonderful and incredible and so full of light and I-" He steps even closer, their lips barely a whisper away as his eyes linger on hers, his words somehow forgotten. He swallows audibly, before talking again, and his cheeks turn into an even brighter shade of red, but he doesn't hesitate. "There's nothing unlovable about you". 

She doesn't know how it happens. Maybe she's vulnerable and desperate and tired of fighting with her feelings. Maybe it's the way he says it, as if it were a truth universally known. Or maybe it's just his closeness, the way his breath lingers on her lips, so close she can count all the moles on his face, the lashes on his eyes, the shades of brown of his irises. She doesn't know - and truth be told, she's not sure she wants to know. The only thing she knows is that she closes the distance between them and finally, _finally_ kisses him. 

Ben goes rigid under her lips, but she has barely the time to worry about it, because it only lasts a moment - it takes just a heartbeat and then he _melts_ into the kiss, letting go of her arm only to bring his hands on her face, cradling it with the utmost care, as if he was handling something terribly precious. She buries her hands in his hair, just as she has dreamed to do countless times, and a soft noise rises from his throat when she wraps a strand around her fingers, slightly tugging at it. His arm slides down to encircle her waist and suddenly she's flushed against him, his chest pressed against hers, his heartbeat a twin to hers. She can't think about anything else but him, his mouth, the way he bites down on her bottom lip, the hand splayed at the small of her back, his fingers digging in the shirt she's wearing, his other hand on her face, his thumb stroking her cheek - she's lost in him and she wants to stay in this moment forever. 

Far too soon for her likes, she's out of air and she has to break away, but Ben doesn't let her go - instead, he presses soft kisses to the corner of her mouth, her jaw, the soft spot beneath her ear. It feels like he's worshipping her in a frantic way, turning every inch of her skin in something different - something sacred. Her fingers dig into his shoulders as she laces her arms around his neck and her legs feel wobbly and she would have collapsed, were not for his arm around her waist. 

Then, he finally breaks away from her. His eyes slowly flutter open, looking at her with the same warmth he always reserves her, and for a moment everything is still and perfect and wonderful. She could connect all the moles on his face in a constellation and trace his lines, the dimples on his cheeks, the laughter lines around his mouth that only appear when she's around. She could sink her hands into his hair again and marvel at their softness. She could brush her fingers against his lips, red from the kiss. 

Instead, reality catches up on them. His eyes go wide and he parts his lips in surprise, the arm around her waist going almost slack. He doesn't exactly let her go, but he seems to put a little bit of distance between the two of them and his touch gets softer, almost hesitant, as if trying to be respectful. "Rey…" 

Her stomach drops as soon as she realizes she's ruined everything. Of course she did - she never manages to do anything right and now she's here, with her heart broken and Ben looking at her like _that_ , like every answer in the world is written on her face and she can't bear it, not anymore, not when she loves him so much it feels like something is pressing down her chest everytime she looks at him, knocking the air out of her lungs, replacing her heart with an eager little creature that aches for him. 

She lets go of him quickly, as if she'd been burned - and maybe she did, because her fingertips feel electrical, as if some kind of shock was still running through her body. She tries her best to hide the tears welling again in her eyes, but this time she doesn't know how to stop them. 

_Congratulations, Rey, you managed to destroy the only good thing in your life_. 

She doesn't have the courage to look him in the eyes, so she keeps staring at her feet, hoping he hasn't noticed yet the fact that she's trying to hold back the tears. "I-I'm sorry," she says, her voice shaky and breathy. "I gotta go". 

And, before he can say anything, she disappears into her room, bursting into tears as soon as she closes the door behind herself. 

*

"I knew I'd find you here". 

From where she stands on the rooftop, she can see Ben's mop of black curls as he looks out of the window, not toward the setting sun but towards her. She must paint a really sad picture, she thinks absentmindedly, curled on herself as she is, hugging her legs to her chest and resting her chin on her knees, sitting on the rooftop as the night slowly approaches. It's freezing out there, but this hasn't stopped her before and won't stop her now 

She sighs, stubbornly staring at the sunset. "What are you doing here?" she hears herself ask. Her voice sounds raw, as if she had spent hours screaming. 

Ben doesn't seem put out by her words or by her tone, even if he visibly winces at the rawness of her voice. "You've been avoiding me," he says, easily, as if he was reporting the weather. He sounds so - _normal_ , and her heart twists into her chest, because normal is something she will never have again, thanks to the thing in her chest that seems to _want_ so much everything Ben's around. 

Even now, even after everything that's happened, the yearning doesn't stop. 

She can't bear to look at him, so she keeps on staring at the sun, as if she could burn herself new eyes just by staring into the unbearable brightness. "Well, then you're kind of defeating the purpos- what the fuck are you doing?" 

Ben, of course, being Ben and thus hardly dissuaded by something as mundane as his fear of heights, is doing his best to climb out of the window and onto the rooftop. "If this is the only way I get to talk to you," he says, as his hands find purchase on the tiles of the roof and he pushes himself up. "Then so be it". 

Her heart hammers crazily in her chest as the stupid, hopeful creature in her soul wonders what this means. He's only trying to console her for getting her own heart broken. He's only being kind, she reminds herself, as he's always been in those months - it doesn't have to mean anything. Sometimes, people are kind just because they want to, and it has nothing to do with love. Only her love-starved heart could make that association. 

"Ben," she says, tasting his name on her tongue as if it were the last time. "You're afraid of heights". 

He scoffs. "Probably not the best time to remind me of that," he replies, and despite everything she can't help the laugh bubbling in her chest, as if he instinctively knew which string to tug to make her chuckle. She still wonders when he's learned her so well - she's lived her whole life with high walls around her heart to protect herself, and Ben has managed to tear those walls down in just a few months, knowing her the way no one has known her before. 

She lets out a deep breath and grabs his arm as he steps on the rooftop, even though she knows he doesn't need her help. Still, despite what he says and how much he tries to show it off, he _is_ afraid of heights and she can't let him pummel to his death. 

"I swear to God, if you die climbing this roof I will never forgive you". 

The laugh he lets out is warm and easy and wonderful, sounding just like home should sound in her mind, and her heart aches in her chest. 

"I'll come back as a ghost just to spite you, then." He finally manages to reach her on the rooftop and looks at her, his easy smile back on his face, crooked and boyish and so, so warm. "See? No problem, I'm alive". 

He looks paler than usual and she notices he does his best to avoid looking down as they sit side by side on the roof, but the fact that he's here despite how afraid he is and the fact that he tries to pretend he's not terrified just to sit in silence beside her… it all makes her want to cry. A part of her wants to wonder, wants to ask him what does it mean - but she doesn't say anything, because she's not sure she wants to hear the answer. 

They stay like this for a few minutes, their shoulders almost touching, a faint breeze moving the few leaves still clinging to the trees, messing with Ben's hair. A black strand sticks to his cheek and her fingers itch to brush it away, tucking it beneath his ear, but she stays put. It's a comfortable silence, just like the ones they've shared countless times before, and she longs for the ease of the past, before she fell in love with him, before she ruined the only good thing in her life, before she turned into this monster hungry for love and kindness and tenderness. 

She has never felt this way before - like she was starved for just a little bit of affection, and she wonders if that's what love does to you, or she's just that desperate. How could anyone submit willingly to this whole ordeal?

"You know, I never asked," Ben starts, after a while. He casts a glance in her direction in the usual way he does - as if he was reading her just like a book, delving into her soul like no one has bothered to do before and clinging to every bit of her he manages to reach. "Why do you keep stealing my clothes?" 

She'd been bracing herself for something else entirely, so by the time he asks her that she's so stunned she even forgets about avoiding looking him in the eyes and turns into his direction, confused. Ben's lips curve in a hesitant smile as he nods into her direction and she follows his gaze down, only now realizing she's wearing the hoodie he had lent her that night. It's big as his clothes usually are on her and she has rolled up the sleeves a few times, but it still feels so _nice_ she couldn't really bear the thought of parting from it. 

"I didn't steal it," she replies, as her eyes travel up to meet his gaze again. He looks at her with the same fondness shining in the deep brown hue of his eyes and he doesn't look mad, but she can't fool herself, not anymore. She looks away, staring at the sunset again, but she knows he doesn't stop looking at her. His gaze is a living thing, a creature that pulses between the two of them, like another heartbeat. "And anyway… I truly don't know. I think it makes me feel safe and I… I never felt safe in my life. I think that's why I keep on borrowing your clothes but I'll- I'll give it back if you want". 

"No," he murmurs. She doesn't know how he manages, but he seems to utter that single word with all the tenderness he's capable of, which always renders her speechless. "No, keep it, please". 

The softness in his voice almost makes her crumble and a deep breath slips past her lips, as she steels herself for what's to come. She hugs her legs tighter, as if to protect what's left of her heart, even though it feels kind of pointless now - Ben knows her too well and he could pry her whole ribcage open just to poke at her heart if he wanted to and she could do nothing about it. 

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable," she says, in the end. The sunset paints the sky in shades of red and pink and when she turns to face him again, he's bathed in a golden light that makes him look like some kind of ancient statue. She takes a moment to admire him - his straight nose, his soft lips, the sharpness of his jaw, black hair brushing against pale skin - before talking again, as if she wanted to commit him to her memory. "I understand if you're angry, I do. I'll move out, I promise, just- just give me a few weeks to find a new apartment, alright? I promise it won't happen again". 

She had braced herself for anything. She expected him to nod and to tell her, with all the kindness he seems to be capable of (which is more than she has seen in her whole life), that's probably the best for both of them and that of course, he'll give her time to find another place and he'll stay out of her way for the time being. In her worst moments, she even expected him to kick her out and mock her, to tell her that he won't ever be able to see her the way she sees him because who could really love someone like her?

What she didn't expect from this moment is Ben looking at her with a confused expression like he's looking at her right now, the wrinkle in the middle of his forehead that she's so familiar with. "Rey," he starts, with a frown, his eyes fixed on her face as if he could find some kind of clarification there. "What the hell are you talking about?" 

She blinks at him, wondering if she's gone crazy in the meantime or words have suddenly lost all meaning. 

"The kiss," she reminds him, as if he needed to be reminded of the most excruciatingly awkward moment of her life. A faint blush appears on her cheeks as she thinks about it, and when he parts his lips to say something she looks away from him, too afraid she'll lose her resolve if she keeps her eyes on him. "I'm sorry, Ben, I swear, I'm so sorry, I- I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, I just-" She feels her voice start to tremble, so she swallows, trying to steady herself. "I'm sorry," she finishes, pathetically. 

Ben exhales loudly and she feels his shoulders rise and fall against hers, a physical sensation that sends shivers down her spine. "Rey, I honestly thought you were avoiding me because _you_ were mad at me".

She turns so fast that her hair whips against her face. " _What_?" she manages to ask, raising her eyebrows. It feels like she's missing half of the conversation and she's not sure she wants to know the rest, but Ben looks at her like _that_ \- like he's genuinely sorry for something that she can't even begin to imagine - and she can't make sense of it all. "What are you talking about?" 

He sighs again, shaking his head, and his eyes look so sad, almost as if he was the one with a broken heart. "I acted like a dick the other night," he explains, which makes no sense at all because Ben has been nothing but kind and patient and gentle with her. "I took advantage of a moment in which you were vulnerable and-" 

"But I was the one who kissed you!" 

She can't actually believe they're on a rooftop, sitting side by side and arguing about whose fault it was. It feels surreal - just a few minutes ago she was crying over her broken heart and now here she is, bickering with Ben about who took advantage of whom that night. 

How has her life come to this? 

"Yeah," he replies, quietly. His cheeks turn red under her gaze and he looks away as he tries his best to shrink into his shoulders, almost as if he wanted to disappear. He's such a big man - long legs and wide shoulders - and watching him act like he could avoid being noticed if he just curled on himself makes her heart twist in her chest and she loves him even more if that's possible. It does nothing to help her heart right now. "Yeah, but I'm the one who has feelings for you". 

The wind gently plays with his hair as he keeps on staring at his hands, avoiding her gaze. He's flustered and terribly sad at the same time, the lines of tension so easy to read on the body she knows so well, after having spent months studying him. Her fingers ache to brush the curls away from his forehead, but her hand trembles when she tries to stretch it out. 

"What?" she asks, again. She wonders how many times she's uttered the word already and she feels so stupid, but Ben raises his eyes to meet hers and there's such an adoration in his gaze, in the way his lips curve, in the lines of his face, that she can't help it - her heart twists into her chest and she leans in, stepping even closer, yearning for the heat of his body, the gentle touch of his hand, the belonging that she feels somewhere deep in her body every time he looks at her like that. 

He stretches out his hand as if to touch her face, but then he seems to think better of it and runs it through his hair, letting out a deep, shaky breath that rattles her to her core because she's never seen him so serious and so _afraid_. He's always been some kind of rock - he was shaken and angry and moody sometimes, especially when he came back from work, but she has never seen him so terrified, as if she could somehow hurt him. She wants to tell him he has it backwards - that it's him, the one with the power to destroy her completely -, but he looks so serious and his words echo in her mind and she can't say a word. 

"Rey," he murmurs in the end, her name almost a prayer on his trembling lips. "Rey, I love you. I've loved you for months. And I- I never expected anything in return, I never expected you to love me back or something. I know you don't love me and it's okay, I never thought someone like you could ever want me and I accepted it a long time ago, I swear. Everything I did- I never expected anything from you, I just wanted to be _there_ for you but I was stupid and I let my feelings rule me and I-" He trails off, unaware of the fact that he has just shaken her whole world down to its roots. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable but it's okay if you want to move out, I'll understand". 

Her words seem to be stuck somewhere between her mind and her lips because when she opens her mouth, nothing comes out of it, except a loud exhale. Ben turns into her direction, the setting sun shining gently on his face, and his lips curve in a smile that's both soft and so terribly sad, as if he had accepted long ago that this is where they'd eventually end up and he's somehow resigned about it. 

The sadness in the back of his eyes spurs her on. "You love me?" she manages to ask, her voice laced with surprise. She sounds just like a kid who never had anything in her life and is suddenly showered in gifts - she's not sure her mind can process this, because Ben loving her is something way too big, too surreal, too incomprehensible for her. She's never been loved like this - like loving her is a privilege and not an effort, like she means something, like she's something precious and sacred and only to be worshipped from afar. 

Ben's smile only gets softer, losing a bit of the sadness she had glimpsed. "Of course I love you," he says, so easily, as if he hadn't just changed her whole life and rewritten the last few months. This time, when he stretches out his hand, he doesn't hesitate and places it on top of hers. He doesn't try to intertwine their fingers - he just rests his hand on hers, as if to feel her skin against his, as if to assure himself she's real or maybe reassure her that this is happening. "I might have acted like a fool the other night, but I meant what I said. You're the most incredible person I've ever met and of course I love you. You've changed my life, Rey". 

Her heart is a fragile little creature in her chest, and it feels like it has a will of its own and just wants to rest inside Ben's ribcage. She feels the pull before she even realizes she's inching closer, curving her fingers around his own, grasping his hand. It never stops to amaze her, the way his fingers fit perfectly between her own, as if their hands were made for this. 

His eyes dart from her face to their joined hands, and then to her face again, as if he couldn't really believe it and he looks so _young_ , so afraid and hopeful at the same time that she feels something tug at her heart, as if it had been definitely dislodged from her ribcage. 

"I'm pretty sure it's the other way around," she manages to say, but he shakes his head, his eyes fixed on her face. 

"No," he whispers, so softly, his eyes almost golden in this light. "You were the first person who ever took a chance to know me. No one has ever looked at me the way you do… They were too afraid of me, of my moods, of my issues, even my parents… and then- then you came along and you memorized me and my quirks and accepted me and challenged me at the same time and I… How could I not fall in love with you, when you were being so wonderful?"

Her words are somehow lost again and she can't comprehend this at all - it all feels backwards, as if Ben had stolen her words along with her heart. But he looks at her with his deep eyes and it feels like she's being seen for the first time in her life and it's terrifying and breathtaking and she now understands why people go through this whole ordeal in order to love. 

This time, when her hand itches to brush away a strand from his forehead, she doesn't stop it - instead, she does just that, just how she dreamed of doing so many times before. Her fingers come to card through his hair and Ben's eyes flutter closed, making him look younger like this, without that kind of resigned sadness in his gaze. Her fingertips brush against his moles, rest on the place where his dimples appear when he smiles, trace the line of his jaw and Ben exhales loudly every time her skin brushes against his and trembles underneath her touch, but he doesn't stop her. He looks so terribly vulnerable like this, and she now knows the kind of courage that being defenseless in front of someone else requires. 

She loves him even more for it. 

Then, as the sun paints them in shades of red and pink, she cradles his face into her hands, leans in and kisses him. Ben is slow - it feels like a lifetime passes between the moment she kisses him and the moment he kisses her back, but then he brings his arms around her, one hand on the small of her back, the other resting on the place where her neck meets her shoulder, and lets go of all the tension and the fears from before just to pour every bit of himself into the kiss. His fingers are warm despite the biting air and his mouth is gentle and soft and it feels so different from their first kiss - that night was desperate and frantic, her heart beating so fast in her chest threatening to escape its own cage, doubts and fears seeping into her veins. This time, instead, it feels tender and delicate and warm - he strokes her face with all the love he's capable of and she isn't terrified of being vulnerable like this, not when it's Ben, not when he loves her. 

It's nothing overly romantic - they're on a rooftop and it's a little bit of an awkward angle, she's wearing a hoodie way too big for her frame and his hair is a mess from all the times he has run his hands through it, but the sunset bathes them in a golden light and Ben loves her and knows her and he hasn't rejected her, hasn't run away from her, hasn't left her alone - instead, he has chosen her. 

When she breaks away, she rests her forehead against his and the smile that spreads on her lips is so big her face almost hurts, but it doesn't matter - it's a good kind of hurt, and she'd bear it a thousand times just to see Ben's eyes shine like that, with pure happiness. He trembles in the embrace, and she notices how scared and how hopeful he looks at the same time. 

"I love you," she says, quietly. For the first time in her life, she isn't scared of those words, she isn't scared of her defenseless little heart - instead, she feels safe and cherished and loved and _home_ , and she can finally let herself feel all of it without the growing fear of losing it gnawing at her soul, spoiling every moment. This time, she can feel some kind of belonging in Ben's arms and she doesn't have to be afraid of it. "I love you, Ben. You were so gentle and kind and you cared so much about me and took care of me and I fell in love like an idiot and I-I thought it was obvious. How did you manage to know me so well but miss this?" 

Ben smiles like a kid on Christmas day, some kind of unfiltered joy shining in his eyes and on his lips, and she dies to kiss him again and she's surprised to realize that now she can - she can kiss him and hold him and rest her head on his shoulder without having to find an excuse for it. She can ask him to touch her hair, to hold her hand, to hug her - there's a million possibilities she hasn't explored yet and it feels almost intoxicating, this kind of power. 

His fingers play with her hair when he replies. "I could ask you the same thing". 

The laugh slips past her lips without her even noticing, as if he knew already what to say, which string to tug, how to reply. It feels like he's mapped her in some previous existence, taking his time to get to know her, memorizing her by heart, and when he looks at her like that, she isn't afraid anymore. 

Instead, she pulls him in another kiss, and when Ben puts his arms around her and kisses her back, she has the fleeting thought that being known is a small price to pay for being loved.

"Let's get inside," she murmurs on his lips. They're both smiling so much it's kind of an awkward angle but she's so happy she barely thinks about it. "I want to kiss you without you having to fear for your life". 

Ben laughs, burying his head in the crook of her neck and kissing the skin there. "Alright," he murmurs, his breath lingering on her collarbone, making her shiver. "I knew you'd understand me". 

Of course she does. It feels like everything they have ever lived has brought them there, on the rooftop of their apartment, to find a belonging they had never found anywhere else. She grasps his hand and helps him down the rooftop onto the balcony and as they step inside, their fingers intertwined, she feels like she's finally coming home. 

**Author's Note:**

> i know it was stupid but you can't stop me!  
> anyway, as always, i am on [twitter](https://twitter.com/akosmia) and [tumblr](http://kylorensx.tumblr.com/) if you want to chat with me! i've been away from social media these months because they increase my anxiety and i plan to avoid all spoilers and leaks from tros until i manage to see it, but i'll always be here if you want to chat or if you want to drop a prompt ♥ i plan to return fully to social media once i've seen the movie, so ....yeah, in like a week :D


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